


Come back to me

by ShippyAngel



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippyAngel/pseuds/ShippyAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He asks, 'Why Adam, Stella?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come back to me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I mean no profits with this story. The show and its characters belong to their owners.
> 
> A/N: I wrote it while listening to "Come back to me", by David Cook, after watching season six premiere.

She shivers because she's left the window half opened, despite the cold wind that's coming from outside. She likes it, like that; she always have. When things got heavy, she would just enjoy the breeze messing her hair, trying to fight how numb she felt inside. The music is turned to the almost lowest tune but even so the soft melody fills Stella's living room, and that alone is enough to make it even more obvious that she doesn't want to be left alone with her silence. Not tonight. She walks towards her window so close to the edge of it that it would only take one slip to get her down to the ground (maybe that's what she really wants). But she touches the glass with her forehead, trying to relieve the ache that's lying there. She lets out a breath, which draws some abstract figure that she can't quite figure out what could possibly turn out to be and she doesn't have the time to find out because as easy as it stayed there, it's gone.

She hears a knock on the door and she can tell who it is by its rhythm. What usually would turn out to be a careless smile, though, ends up being the beggining of a heart attack, maybe. Or that never-going pain in her stomach everytime he's close to her. Her steps to the door feels the longest and hardest she has ever taken.

With her heart beating loudly in her ears, feeling like it might just come out of her mouth, she opens the door, taking a deep breath in an atempt to fill her lungs with enough oxygen to keep her standing (as if oxigen is all that it takes for that). Her partner doesn't look up and she's unable to read his eyes (something she's used to), while his arms supports his body at each side of her door.

When he finally looks at her, she shivers by the intensity held in his blue eyes. She melts everytime he looks deep down in her eyes, but it feels differently now. And, deep down, she knows the reason why there's a myriad of emotions there that she can't read it. Or maybe she's just afraid to try.

Without a request on his part, she creaks the door wild open so he can step inside. While he walks towards her window, almost mimicking her spot from minutes ago, she goes to the kitchen and she grabs a glass for him as well, filling it with the same rich and vivid red wine she's having, without asking if he's in the mood to drink it but knowing, both by the look on his face and his posture, that he would take anything with alcohol that was given to him.

Mac faces Stella and they remain reading each other's truths behind their eyes, without moving, without speaking, without barely breathing. Just simply standing in the corner of her living room. His blue eyes are darker and watered with tears that he (always) manage to hold back from falling and Stella finds herself wanting to hold him until the sun comes up and this whole nightmare is over. But she doesn't because she's afraid of him. For a long time she hasn't felt that, not since Claire's death, but she feels it now because he's looking like he's about to take everything down, like a man on a mission that desperately needs an ending, a dead line.

"Have we reached that dead line", she wonders and she takes a huge breath once more, afraid to even think about the possible answers. Mac swallows the wine and, with a gulp, he almost takes half of it down his throat. He puts the glass on her table, never taking his eyes away from hers. He, then, moves up his hand and touches her face in the most caring way she has ever been touched. Stella gasps loudly, not expecting such an act, and Mac uses his fringertips to feel the texture of her cheeks, her ears, her jaw, her lips.... He finally says, in his lowest voice "How have I not noticed this eyes before now?" and she sobs abruptly. That doesn't affect him (at least, not apparently), because he simply remains holding her face with a hand and then with both hands, analyzing every pore of hers, every feeling of her skin against his skin, every reaction that her body offers to his body, as if he was never allowed before now and never will again.

His face approaches hers and their breaths mingle in the air but their lips never touch. He looks under control right now but he's trembling too, she notices, and his eyes look upset. They just stay as they are, though, sharing body heat and desperate trying to find some meaning. They don't know what the hell they are doing, they don't want to know.

He takes a couple of steps back, just enough to be able to look at her, again. "Is it true?", he whispers, with a hoarsed voice.

She's torn between pretending not to know what he's talking about and following her senses, admiting the obvious. He hasn't said a word, yet, but she knows what he's here for. She can only suppose what would take him to come to her place this late at night and behave like that: the truth is out. "He knows, he knows", she thinks to herself and her silence alone is enough answer for him.

He walks himself away from her, needing to gauge some space between them as not to lose his mind completely (as if he hasn't already). He turns his back to her and he looks out to the empty streets. "The rumors... about you and.... you and..." he closes his eyes and his right hand ruffles his hair, while the left one pinches his hip bone, as a sign to how nervous he really is right now. "Shit, I can't even say his name anymore."

Stella stands in the middle of her living room feeling like a strange there, without knowing what to say and she wonders, for a quick moment, if Adam said something or if Mac's just too good at reading people. "Don't worry", he garantees "Adam's not that kind of guy, to share such things with.... no." she understands that maybe Mac's just too good at reading HER. "Someone must have heard you two talking and, well, you know how these things work." he fidgets and she rolls her eyes, admiting the universal truth that we can never tell how a gossip begins, much less when they end. "I remember how easily people could tell I was with Peyton, so..." he turns to her, bitting his lips in anxiety. "It is true."

She feels her face burn from shame and she doesn't quite understands why, since she's a grown woman (right?!). "Mac, I..." she's sweating and her fingers tremble so damn much that she has to leave her glass on the table as well.

"I didn't come here for explanations, Stella." He interrupts her, with a hand hanging in the air. "I don't have the right to."

"Why are you here for, then?"

For the first time since he got here, Mac almost cries out: his face turns bright red, he presses his hands against the window's glass to try to relieve the tension, a vein jumps through his forehead and Stella can tell how hard the conversation is about to get.

"Would you believe me if I told you I don't know?" He looks up to her ceiling and then back to her. "I don't know, maybe I'm just a fucking selfish son of a bitch!"

She looks down and feels her eyes welling up with tears. She thinks she is the one to deserve those words, not him, not when she was the one to fuck everything yup. "Mac," she whispers, taking two steps towards him, touching his arm (by which, she can tell, is hard from stress) and he steps away once and again. "Don't touch me.", he replies, with a broken tune in his voice.

"Why Adam?!"

She's troubled. There are no reasons. She didn't even think about it, didn't even recognize it was happening until she came, screaming and thinking of Mac, realizing that it wasn't his body on top of hers. "Why not Adam?", she answers, not wanting to hurt him even more but begging to finally define what exists between them.

And she knows he's hurt not only because he's open to her now, but because she knows how hurt she would be in his place. Because she knew he would be hurt the moment she collected her clothes from the floor in that cheap motel while Adam just stared at her.

Mac sits on her sofa, throwing his head back against its cushion. His hands covers his face, hiddes his tired eyes, and instantly Stella desires for those to be her hands.

"He was so good to me, Mac." She's aware that will only hurt him furthermore, but she needs to be honest now. She needs to be finally honest with him, after years of holding her feelings inside and even after screwing everything up with a drunken mistake.

"Did you have any doubts that he would be willing to?" he raises his eyebrow to her. "Do you have any doubts that any other man would?" he releases all he was holding in his lungs. "When?"

"Mac..."

"WHEN?"

"Why does it matter?"

He bites his lips, again, regaining the strenght not to threw her up against the wall and to fuck her senseless, to try to take the ache out of his chest. But he knows it would only makes things worse and even more complicated between them.

"I never thought we would end up like this."

She's the one to raise her eyebrows now, not understading completely what he means.

"What, Stella? You think I'm fucking blind? You think that after so long sharing my days with you I wouldn't notice you?" he talks and she takes the courage to sit next to him. "Well, it really did take me awhile to admit that you were an woman, an incredible woman, with this sexy body and caring heart. To realise that maybe, you know, I could look at you like I saw the other guys looking. It took me awhile to not feel guilty, about you... about Claire."

He was never that opened to her before and Stella feels like she's dreaming, perhaps.

"I never thought it was fair to compare other women with Claire. It wouldn't be fair to any of them. Inevitably, of course, I did and I always managed to stop myself." His chest was heavy, she could tell, because he was breathing with difficulty. "I always felt like I knew Claire since I was a kid. Do you know that kind of loving, Stella?" she nods only to make him keep going, but not completely knowing what he meant – no, she has never felt that, not before him. "We started dating really young and our love only grew stronger and I felt like I couldn't remember a time in my life when she wasn't there. We had the same taste and the same opinions over things. There was never arguing, except for when I wouldn't take the garbage out.", he smirks.

He turns to her completely now. "And then, well, it all happened and I lost ground." He chokes but continues. "She was dead and I was lost and I never thought I would live again. I started to understand that I could survive each day. But not necessarily live." His eyes are looking into space and she has to stop herself from holding his hands in an attempt to bring him back. "You were always there, like you said to me today. I can't remember a moment in these past few years when you hadn't manage to make me smile or sleep or eat, even when I didn't want to." He smiles, bitterly. "And it was different from other women, because, with you, there was always more to deal with." He stops and looks deeply into her eyes. "And it was also different from Claire because..." he's careful with his words as not to hurt her and she's careful in listening as not to have her heart completely broken. "Because I've come to this point where I can't imagine my life without you. Even though we have different tastes and completely opposite opinions, even though we argue all the time." He laughs and stops just after it. "It's not about feeling like I knew you as a kid. It's feeling like" he breaths, trying to catch the right words "like I knew you even before then, from previous lives, if I believe that."

"So the price was too high to take a risk?" she tries, almost going crazy for not saying anything so far but cherishing every word he offered her.

He doesn't answer her right away, just looks at her in a way to make her knees go weak.

"Why Adam, Stella?" he demands.

"Would you believe me if I told you I don't know?" she repeats his previous words. "Don't you think I've been asking myself that same question over and over again? I mean, he's sweet and an amazing guy but he's a lot younger and there's nothing between us. I don't behave like this, I don't even think this is ME! I don't know why I chose him. Hell, I didn't choose him! He just happened to be there when I desperately needed someone." She feels tired and almost doesn't finish her sentence, but she knows he deserves it. "We were at the bar, right? You and Hawkes were called to get to work and I was still feeling miserable about Danny and I wanted to call Linds and see how things were going and... I saw my last received phone calls and Angel's number was one of them. After a couple of drinks I stood up to leave and Adam held me and told me how strong I was and... I had this feeling I was wanted by someone, I had a feeling that I belong somewhere and God, Mac, I haven't felt that in ages. He held my face like this" she goes closer to him to picture how it happened that night, but ankwardly, since they are sitting on the couch. Stella holds Mac's face with her hands, feeling his beard barely grown. "He told me how he would do anything to easy the pain. And I believe him, Mac. I believed him and I let him do it... and, for a second, I wasn't so lonely and empty anymore. For just a second."

He nods, taking her honest words and believing them, but not convinced enough to easy the pain in his heart.

"So I'm the selfish one, uh."

"I didn't say that, Mac."

"You don't have to, Stella." He raises from the couch, putting some distance between them for the 9th time or so tonight. "I always felt, deep in my heart, satisfied enough to see you in your own independent word full of people, with me from afar. And I never allowed myself to be jealous since you were happy with other guys, no matter how that bothered me, because you were happy. And I couldn't fight that because, hell, you of all people deserved to be happy. But I never really had to see you with the other guys: they virtually existed but I didn't have to witness it, they could have been in your apartment, and there were the others who didn't get that lucky and simply tried hard to flirt with you and get a minute of your attention or simply gawk at your body as a piece of meat. And no matter how crazy it left me, no matter how much it made my blood boil, I always held back. But now... everytime I walk through the lab I can almost picture you and him and..."

"Mac" she stops him "it was just a one-night thing. I needed that and he was there. It ended right there. It stayed in that motel room."

"It doesn't change anything, Stella. He's still one of the guys from the lab and I can't take the picture out of my mind. And even if we work it out... he's still one of the guys."

"So what is it, Mac? You don't want people to talk?"

"People WILL talk, Stella."

"Do I look like I care?" she feels insulted.

"Well, I do." The air comes out of his nose in a fury. "And I wasn't there when you needed."

"No, Mac, you were obsessed with trying to get this case done, you were worried about Danny. You were eager to find the answers to this puzzle. You were you." She comes nearer to him. "Besides. it wasn't about someone being there – I know is going to sound really bad, but... it was about having someone who actually wanted me there."

There are tears falling from her cheeks and some even last enough to touch the ground and Mac feels like he could punch someone right now.

"When I closed my eyes, I thought about being in your bed. I thought about your smell after sex, your hair, your teeth marking my skin and your kisses soothing it." Stella looks at him with her pupils expanded.

"And I've finally understand that I can't heal everything." He whispers "I couldn't heal you."

"I'm not proud of what I did or of the fact that I probably used him. But I can't go back and makes things different either. I can't change that."

"Well, it changed everything."

"So what are you saying, that whatever we had is weak to the point that it breaks when compared to a one-night stand?"

Mac finally loses it. "WEAK? How do you DARE?!" he takes Stella by the shoulders and sink his fingers down to her bones. "I came here to let it all out, to say 'no more'. Because then I would finally be able to find a way out of the mess I am since you've find your way into me. Because then I would stop looking for your taste in other mouths and stop feeling fucking guilty when I do get that far, and I probably would stop seeing you in every corner of the streets. Because just minutes ago I had to listen to this pathetic gossip and I realised that you were never coming to me and I would have to stop waiting and to stop blaming myself for not having the guts to ask you out." His lips were so close to hers that she was sure she could reach them if she tried. "And I just realised how deep it affects me, to the point where I should have been in a crime scene right now, but instead I came here because I wouldn't be able to do my job properly if I didn't hear for your lips the fact that you slept with my subordinate and that you screamed his name and not mine and that this young man can now rub on my face that he did something I am not capable of!"

They are both breathing deep and she whispers while he calms down "Can't you see how disturbing it was to me, how everything always brought me back to you? I was afraid of carrying this story for a lot longer and to end up alone, stopping other man from loving me and wanting me simply because I was taking care of your ghost inside of me, comparing each and every one of them to you, with no guilt what so ever."

Stella throws her body towards Mac's and holds him so tight to the point where she can't breath. But she can't care about it either. And, for a moment, he doesn't respond but she decides to ignore his passive behaviour, she pretends not to notice his fists closed while he tries to fight this emotional battle with himself: his worst enemy. She waits until he finally realises that he, the Super Hero Mac Taylor, can't win this one, until he clunches back to her, holding her even tighter, making it almost impossible to see where one begins and the other ends. She feels his muscles flexing and feels even more drawn to him, impossibly more attracted to him than ever before. He hides his face in her neck and breaths her scent, almost losing his mind, almost screaming at her for the inevitable desire that always fills his senses when he's that closer to her.

"I can't do this, Stell." His breath lingers on her hair while their bodies touch from head to toes. "I'd rather give up my will to have you than losing this."

"Can't we have both?"

"I can't do this, not right now." He presses his hand to her head, his fingers dancing along her caramell curls. Good Christ, he thinks, it feels so damn good.

So i'll let you go  
I'll set you free  
And when you see what you need to see  
When you find you come back to me

"I don't want to lose you, Mac."

"You never will." Mac takes her hands in his and drinks her figure down with his eyes. "Do you remember what you said to me at Claire's funneral?" she tries to think, she really does, but she can't get that far with him so close to her. "That sometimes we need to take it slow, to take 2 steps back in order to take 1 ahead, eventually." He caress her back, savouring the feel of her skin against his calloused hand. "Maybe we're better off as friends" His voice isn't confident enough to convience neither of them. "For now."

Stella cries as when Angel died, sobbing desperately in his arms, but for a different reason now. Hardly, Mac steps back and takes his last look at her tonight. They talk without words for a few seconds, until he can't resist any longer and he kisses her in the face and he remains there, with his forehead against her cheek. "You were the only one with whom I shared time, love and moments like these – and I suspect, sometimes, that it's just too much for 2 people to make it work." She says and he kisses her skin once more. "Maybe," he replies and sustains "maybe not."

"Will we ever find out way to each other, Mac?"

"We've found each other." He whispers, their fingers barely brushing, almost letting go. Almost. "Isn't that enough?"

She closes her eyes. "For now."

"For now." he agrees, looking back at her, as the palm of their hands touched and caressed intimately. 'We are back', she can't help but think. Their fingers held so strongly that their knuckles were white and the energy in the air was unmistakable.

When you find you come back to me

Mac makes his way to the door and holds the door knob and leaves, before looking back at her once more, slightly smilling, as if saying 'we are okay'.

"I'll come back to you, Mac", she promises to herself out loud.


End file.
